


No Admittance (Except on Party Business)

by CaffieneKitty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Party, Domestic, Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffieneKitty/pseuds/CaffieneKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Party planning is a necessary evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Admittance (Except on Party Business)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [watsons_woes](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/) [WAdvent Open Post Day 1 - Doors/Windows](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1467650.html). Includes a bit of entirely unnecessary retcon regarding Christmas decorations. Title is a Hobbit reference, just because.

It was a good morning for making lists. Pen and paper in front of him, morning cup of tea half-gone, John watched the scant few flakes of snow drifting downward outside the window in the grey winter morning.

"Fairy lights," said Sherlock.

John glanced over at Sherlock, eyebrows raising. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Sherlock sipped his tea, sitting across the breakfast table from John. His phone sat on the table beside him, as it had since it started making rude noises when he got a text, though that sound hadn't been heard for over a month now. He'd almost stopped glancing at it every few minutes too. John thought it was probably a healthy sign for Sherlock to be marginally less obsessed with a person who'd drugged him, whipped him with a riding crop and stolen his coat.

"If there's to be a party here, there must be fairy lights." Sherlock continued. "They're one of the least overtly saccharine traditions of this time of year."

John half-smirked at his flatmate.

"Shut up." Sherlock tapped John's list with an imperious finger. "Fairy lights."

"Right. Okay." John scribbled them onto the '221B Christmas Party' shopping list. "Any particular colour?"

"Please," Sherlock scoffed. "There's no point in fairy lights that are all one colour. They're just illumination otherwise. We must have multicoloured fairy lights. Everywhere."

"Everywhere," John said flatly, wondering what mayhem Sherlock might be plotting that involved fairy lights.

"Kitchen, stairs, mantlepiece, bookcases, but very particularly the windows." Sherlock steepled his fingers. "The brightest and most colourful especially for round the windows."

 _Definitely plotting something. Do those little bulbs still explode if they're thrown...?_ On the list next to 'fairy lights' John added 'non-exploding sort' just to be safe.

"Fairy lights aren't cheap though, Sherlock."

"Yes they are," Sherlock picked up his mug.

"Well, yes," John allowed, "relatively speaking. But that many fairy lights? That could be a bottle of decent sherry that gets dropped from the party budget."

Sherlock hummed into his tea. "Mrs Hudson may have some. I vaguely recall some blue lights still hanging in the stairwell when I stopped in to see her before renting the flat. She'll still have those."

"And if they're going to be indoors en masse on something like the mantlepiece-" _definitely non-exploding bulbs_ "-they should really be white or all one sort of neutral colour or it's going to look wretched. People will be drinking; they don't need to be made nauseous by the lighting."

Sherlock sighed and waved a hand. "Fine. Stairwell blue, mantlepiece white. The rest _must_ be a riot of colour. Flashing or twinkling by preference."

"What?" John frowned incredulously at Sherlock. "No! No flashing! It's a party, not a disco!"

"Won't be as effective if they aren't flashing. But on second thought, no." Sherlock shook his head. "No flashing."

John put down the pen. "Are you... feeling alright, Sherlock?"

Sherlock blinked. "Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just-" John waved at the currently un-bedecked sitting room. "Flashing colourful fairy lights aren't something I'd expect you might become obsessed with." Sherlock going along willingly with the whole 'let's have a Christmas party here' idea was already a little disconcerting for John's expectations of Sherlockian behaviour.

"It's not an obsession, it's a sensible precaution." Sherlock smirked. "Mycroft absolutely _hates_ them."

"Ahhh. Right." John relaxed, Sherlock's behaviour suddenly fitting into his previously established parameters. "We didn't invite him, but-"

"Not being invited _is_ what Mycroft considers an invitation. He hates Christmas entirely, but you can be sure he'll find a way to arrive just when Mrs Hudson's 'festive nibbles' are served." Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the window frame, steepling his fingers over his half-finished mug of tea. "Colourful fairy lights though? Perfect seasonal Mycroft-repellent. Even at home he makes every excuse to stay away from the parlour. He says they give him a headache, but that's just an excuse so mother will let him sit in the kitchen scoffing mince pies."

John opened his mouth to say something, but found himself utterly boggled for the second time in his life by the image of Sherlock and Mycroft having a typical family Christmas and changed tack to save his sanity. "Right. Colourful fairy lights it is then."

"Excellent."

"Anything else to add?"

"No." Sherlock picked up his tea and his phone and wandered to whatever experiment he had going on at the kitchen table.

"Right, I'll just take care of the rest, shall I?" John said.

Only the sound of clinking labware came from the kitchen.

 _As always._ John picked up the pen, smirked, and perversely added 'Santa hat for skull' to the list.

-.-.-  
(that's all)


End file.
